


My Apartment Is A Mess and So Am I

by neadevar



Series: Sink Your Talons Into Me [3]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, M/M, Paranoia, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-05
Updated: 2017-10-04
Packaged: 2019-01-09 07:44:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12271992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neadevar/pseuds/neadevar
Summary: Gabe: How come I’ve never seen your apartment carino?Jack: It’s a mess.Gabe: You say that every time.Gabe: If I don’t see your place I’m going to be convinced you’re homeless.Not homeless, Jack thought. Just a wreck.





	My Apartment Is A Mess and So Am I

_ Gabe: How come I’ve never seen your apartment carino? _

_ Jack: It’s a mess. _

_ Gabe: You say that every time.  _

They had been doing this… weird dating thing for a few months now. Jack wasn’t used to it at all to say the least. He felt almost too old to be dating, despite not being quite in his thirties yet, but  _ fuck  _ his birthday was coming up. His  _ thirtieth  _ birthday. He would be in his thirties. A regular man his age would be married with kids and settled down by now, not doing whatever the hell he was doing with himself. Of course serving in the military for seven years and being as dedicated as he was left little time for things like dating and creating a family. And after it just seemed so pointless.

At least until Gabriel, who had definitely thrown him for a loop. The man was kind of a hard ass sometimes, got grumpy when he hadn’t eaten for too long and his mood was quick to sour. It wasn’t hard for Jack to get him out of his moods by now. He had some tricks up his sleeve for when the man got bitchy. A little kiss here, a little touch there, and he melted like he had never been ornery in the first place. Still for as much of a grump as he could be he was almost soft. Unless Jack asked for it his hands never left bruises during sex and the way he held him at night was tender. It was affection Jack hadn’t actually experienced before. He was in a relationship before he joined the army, one that had quickly fallen apart  _ because  _ he had enlisted, and while he had been so sure that he was going to marry her looking back the relationship was rocky from beginning to end. There was none of what he and Gabe were doing.

_ Gabe: If I don’t see your place I’m going to be convinced you’re homeless. _

Which brought Jack to the problem at hand. While he was sure Gabriel had figured out on his own time that Jack had his own box of secrets even if the man never pushed or pried, Jack had never outright told him just how messed up he was. He had his days, Gabe saw more than he would have preferred, but he kept the  _ very  _ bad very bottled up and locked away from him. Jack could be volatile. He knew it. Anger quickly wiped out any rationale if he was having a particularly bad day. Panic overrode any sense of right or left and left him with the urge to fight his way out. At war it saved his ass many times. At home it got people hurt. 

And right then, it was a very  _ very  _ bad day. 

The silence in the house was deafening, the ceiling fans having been turned off along with the thermostat. He had closed the vents leaving the place stale and stuffy. Mirrors were covered. All the lights were on. Weapons had been pulled from their hiding spots to lay out on the open. Windows locked, blinds closed, locks on the door being checked every minute. Jack had been pacing since three in the morning, doing his rounds around the house and feeling his heart beating into his throat. He had texted Lena the codeword, ‘Overwatch’, so that she wouldn’t text or call or drop in unexpectedly. 

But he never told Gabriel about his issues, so they didn’t have a codeword, and he texted him at six in the afternoon.

The buzzing of his phone on the table resulted in a swinging arm and a shattered picture frame on the floor. It took him a solid ten minutes kneeling on the floor behind the couch with a pocket knife in his hand trying to convince himself that there was no immediate danger before he was able to stand. 

Gabriel, god damn ill informed Gabriel.

Every message was a struggle. Every letter typed, every word formed, sapped more strength from him then he thought possible.

_ Not homeless,  _ he thought.  _ Just a wreck. _

_ Jack: Maybe someday. _

_ Gabe: I’m counting on it. _

Jack didn’t respond after that, turning off his phone and clutching it to his chest and thinking about the weapons littered around his house and how much of an utter disaster he was.

  
  
  


PTSD was a bitch. Remembering to take his medication, avoiding certain areas around town he  _ knew  _ upset him (around the hospital, mostly), fighting the paranoia and the nightmares. It all fucking sucked. Jack had better things to do with his time then this.

Like picking up Gabe, which he was doing right now. The steady beat of music that escaped the front door as he waited by the security guard stationed by the entrance set his nerves on edge. It made his fingers shake and the knee he fucked up at war ache. He tried to keep his cool as he made small talk with the bouncer. A nice guy, Jesse was his name? Jack couldn’t be too sure. He was on break though and provided a distraction to the mess that was his head. He was a scruffy guy, a cowboy hat on that despite his bouncer uniform looks okay, and when he offered Jack a cigar he politely declined.

When Gabe walked out Jack smiled and relaxed a fraction. He was in a beat up black coat to fight off the chill of winter and pants that looked like they had seen better days, and he was still the best thing Jack had seen all day. Gabriel smiled at him.

They should have left then, should have turned and walked away and went to Gabe’s place. A man being kicked out of the building had them pausing to look with confusion.

“Don’t let him in,” the security guard told Jesse. “He got up on stage and started groping one of the dancers.”

The man was drunk, but only enough so to stumble a bit on his feet. His face was a mask of blind, bright red rage and it had Jack feeling a little wary. He’d seen their type before, worked with them, and felt a little antsy watching him try to get out of the security guard’s grip only to be shoved hard, nearly landing on his face.

“Fuck that,” the man seethed, trying to push his way in. “Lemme in.”

Gabe tugged on Jack’s hand, obviously not wanted to stay much longer. Watching Jesse fight off the man’s drunken attempts to push past him had him concerned though. Not so much for the drunk but more for the security guard who was supposed to be on break trying not to lose the cigar from his mouth as he held him back.

“Come on, man,” Jack took a step forward. “Let me call you a cab so you can get home.”

“Fuck you,” the drunk spat, stopping in his struggle to take a step towards him. He swung a fist at him but Jack easily dodged it. His nerves spiked and he told himself it would probably be best to go home now but he really didn’t want to leave Jesse to deal with this on his own.

Gabe stepped in then. “If you don’t get off this property this man here,” a motion to Jesse, “will have no option but to call the police.”

That was definitely the wrong thing to say, apparently. The man’s face turned red with rage as he took a threatening step towards Gabe.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do,” he spat at Gabe’s feet.

Gabe only raised an eyebrow, “Jesse, go ahead and call the police.”

The man let out an angered shout, and swung a fist at Gabriel.

And all Jack saw was white hot rage.

He didn’t register moving, didn’t feel his feet hit the ground or his fists hit skin. He didn’t hear people shouting, the man screaming, only the way his heart beat in his ears.It roared in his head, screaming  _ ‘PROTECT HIM, PROTECT HIM, PROTECT HIM’  _ with each thump. He vaguely registered that the red he was seeing was blood, but god he had seen so much blood in his life so what did that matter.

Something crunched under his knuckles but he barely felt it, barely registered how much his fists hurt. He kept swinging, only pausing when something struck his face and he felt his nose break. The pain only made him panic more. Fists swung faster, harder, even as the man underneath him managed to heave him off and crawl on top to wrap drunken hands around his throat. Suddenly the man was off of him, groaning weakly on the ground next to him, and hands were grabbing at his upper arms. 

“Jack! Come on, Jack!”

Gabe. Gabriel. Jack went limp in his grasp, letting him pull away from the bleeding man on the ground. Fuck.  _ Fuck.  _ What did he  _ do _ ? He started shaking then as Gabe helped him to his feet. The drunk man struggled to his feet and took off running, but Jack only watched him for a second before staring down at his bloody knuckles. He did that. He  _ did that.  _ He was trembling so hard his teeth were knocking together and he had to  _ leave.  _ He had to get out of there and get home. Each beat of his heart felt like the  _ thrum thrum  _ of a helicopter, knocking him off his feet and sending him back to war. Back to dusty air and the sounds of machine guns and men dying. He needed to get out of there before he got worse.

“I need to go home,” Jack told Gabe, voice wavering and weak.

Gabe nodded, reaching into Jack’s pocket to grab his keys. “Let’s go. Jesse, you didn’t see this happen.”

Jesse tipped his hat and pocketed his phone. “See what?”

Jack let Gabe lead him to his car, climbed into the front seat numbly and barely heard himself as he rattled off directions. Gabe followed him up to his apartment, used his keys to unlock the door for him, and followed him into the bathroom. Jack took a moment to be thankful that he had hidden all of the weapons in his house before he had left, bypassing the gun under his sink as he grabbed his first aid kit. Gabe took the kit from him before he could open it but Jack couldn’t find it in himself to try and argue for it back.

“Sit on the sink,” Gabriel instructed, and Jack did as he was told. 

“I’m sorry,” Jack apologized.

Gabe only shook his head. “You could have killed him.”

“I know.”

Gabe grabbed a washcloth that was sitting beside the sink, wetting it down and wiping at Jack’s bloody face. He didn’t say anything for a moment before asking. “Are you okay?”

Jack wanted to cry, something he hadn’t done in forever, but right then he all he wanted to do was sob because he was tired and embarrassed. He wasn’t supposed to lose it in front of Gabe. Ever. He was going to keep his shitty problems from him as long as he possibly could but all it took was one bad day to throw that over his head. 

Instead of crying he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, answering truthfully, “No.”

Gabriel pursed his lips as he held the rag to Jack’s nose, trying to stop the bleeding. “Does this thing happen often?”

“Not like this.”

“Jackie, please talk to me.”

Jack took a deep, shaky breath. “Ptsd.”

Gabe nodded, putting a hand to the back of his neck and rubbing it. Jack relaxed into the touch. With the adrenaline wearing off his face was really starting to throb, and he winced as Gabe pulled the rag away from his nose.

“You got lucky,” Gabe said. “It doesn’t look like it needs to be reset.”

Jack almost nodded, but when he moved his head and his whole face ached he threw out a thumbs up instead. 

Gabe took his hands, using the rag to wipe the blood from them. His knuckles were bruised an ugly blue and purple, and every swipe of the rag made them throb. Jack only tensed a little, telling himself he’d been through worse. That this was nothing.

All cleaned up Jack hopped off the counter, shying away a little when Gabe reached for him. The man pursed his lips before asking, “Did you want me to stay?”

Jack shook his head, “No. It’s probably best if you leave. You can take my car.”

Gabe only shook his head, “The bus works for me.”

“Gabe, please, take my car,”  _ I’m sorry for losing it. If you take my car that means you  _ have  _ to see me again. _

It was pitiful, Jack knew it, but he was terrified Gabe was just going to leave and never come back. 

“Alright,” Gabriel said. “I’ll text you tomorrow, if that’s okay.”

Jack nodded, and followed him out of the bathroom. As soon as the front door closed behind Gabe he did the locks and made his way to his own bed. 

He wished he had shown Gabe his apartment under better circumstances.

**Author's Note:**

> If anything about Jack's PTSD if off please let me know. I do not have it myself but I'm basing it on a friend's case of it, if not more severe. I'd hate to write this completely inaccurate.
> 
> My tumblr is Neadevar if you wanna come yell with me about reaper76


End file.
